But all this came to an end at last. She had said her last farewell to the Sisters and her friends at the convent gate; Lavrans led her to her horse and lifted her into the saddle. ’Twas so strange to ride with her father and the men from Jörundgaard down to the bridge, along this road, down which she had stolen in the dark; wonderful, too, it seemed to ride through the streets of Oslo freely and in honour. She thought of their splendid wedding train, that Erlend had talked of so often—her heart grew heavy; ’twould have been easier had he carried her away with him. There was yet such a long time before her in which she must live one life in secret and another openly before folks. But then her eye fell on her father’s grave, ageing face, and she tried to think, that after all Erlend was right. * * * * * There were a few other travellers in the inn. At eventide they all supped together in a little hearth-room, where there were two beds only; Lavrans and Kristin were to sleep there, for they were the first in rank among the guests. Therefore, when the night drew on a little, the others bade them a friendly good-night as they broke up and went to seek their sleeping places. Kristin thought how it was she who had stolen to Brynhild Fluga’s loft-room to Erlend’s arms—sick with sorrow and with fear that she might never more be his, she thought: no, there was no place for her any more amongst these others. Her father was sitting on the further bench, looking at her. “We are not to go to Skog this time?” asked Kristin, to break the silence. “No,” answered Lavrans. “I have had enough for some time with what your mother’s brother made me listen to—because I would not constrain you,” he added, as she looked up at him questioningly. “And, truly, I would have made you keep your word,” said he a little after, “had it not been that Simon said, he would not have an unwilling wife.” “I have never given my word to Simon,” said Kristin quickly. “You have ever said before, that you would never force me into wedlock—” “’Twould not have been force if I had held you to a bargain that had been published long since and was known to all men,” answered Lavrans. “These two winters past you two have borne the name of handfasted folk, and you have said naught against it, nor shown yourself unwilling, till now your wedding-day was fixed. If you would plead that the business was put off last year, so that you have not yet given Simon your troth; then that I call not upright dealing.” Kristin stood gazing down into the fire.